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A quick look at the clock in the entrance hall showed it wasn't even eleven. The sick, violent need to hurt the party responsible for her current state resurfaced. They'd drugged her early enough to have plenty of time for fun before midnight, at which point she would have been helpless to resist the ritual. I knew they would have prepared so she couldn't protect herself with a circle of salt tonight, but this?

The journey to the dungeon was long and awkward. Little moans escaped her lips, her thighs tightening a fraction, her chest pressing against mine.

Yep, no blood test needed.

None too soon, we were in front of the previously bare cell that I'd spent most of the afternoon decorating with some of the furniture in my spare bedrooms. They were like mine, all red and black and metallic, and the walls of the cell had shifted to a deep crimson to fit it. Instead of a bland ceiling, there was a constellation of a million stars overhead.

"You're sure we're in the right place?" she checked with a tiny titter.

I lowered her onto her bed. "It's bad enough you have to be imprisoned. I wanted you to be comfortable."

I looked around, trying to consider anything she might need. There was a glass bottle of cool water on her bedside table, with three books and a candelabra, in case she needed more light than the four oil lamps on the walls could provide.

"I need to get some potions to help with your symptoms. I'll be back shortly," I assured her.

She nodded, sliding under the covers.

I couldn't have been more delighted that she seemed more tired than inclined to jump me.

Quickly, I rushed through the halls, heading to the crypt, and filled my pockets with everything I thought I might need—one potion meant to hydrate her, another, to lower her temperature, a third to help with sleep. For once, I really could have used Hypnos's power.

I ran back to her cell, encountering Zazel and Phobos on my way. The cat hissed at me.

"Yeah, well, I'm doing my best," I yelled back, irritated by the feline's judgement.

What did he know, anyway? He was a cat. And a demon.

Or maybe he'd just hissed at me because he was Zazel and he hated me, not because he suspected I'd attack his poor drugged-up witch.

Finally, I was back at the cell, pushing the iron door so hard it flew into the wall. I was that worried.

And then I gulped, and took a step back.

I should have stayed the fuck away.

How was I going to survive this?

36

LUCIAN

Kleos had peeled off most of her clothing, shedding the dress, to reveal a set of dark green lace underwear underneath.

"Here you are," she drawled, her voice completely wrong.It was too soft, low and suggestive."I've been waiting for you."

She moved to get up.

I didn't even think. I lifted my hands, palm facing her, and the next moment, chains flew out of the nearest actual cell, and fastened themselves around her wrists.

They latched to the metal frame of the bed, loose enough to give her some room to move, but she couldn't get to me.

It seemed to delight her, her wide blue eyes full of amusement as she threw her head back and laughed. "Is this how you want to play, hm? I can work with that."

I made myself look down.

Fuck, fuck,fuck. Kleos, the real Kleos, would hate that I was there while she was at her most vulnerable.

People who got drugged like this were in serious danger of overexerting themselves, hurting themselves to get what their bodies craved, badly reacting to the potion, especially if the dosewas wrong. She already had a fever. I had to stay.I couldn't let her get her hands on me, but I had to check on her.